I'm Ready For My Close Up, Mr. DeMille...

Last night, the parental units and I went to the Metropolitan Opera House to see a production of Die Fledermaus (otherwise known as "The Nutcracker of the Opera"). It was a very nice production, with the part of Frosch the Jailer played very well by Bill Irwin, who is probably best known as "that mime guy from the Bobby McFerrin video". Enjoyable, slightly too long as usual, yada, yada, yada.

However, this evening we had gotten a box. Boxes are very nice, they have their own cloakrooms, with your own usher to unlock the door to let you in. Ours was on the right side, with six seats in it. We had the three in front. Right before show time, the three people sitting behind us turned up. A nice looking couple, and an older lady. The older lady was wearing a white lace top, black skirt, sparkly shoes, some rhinestone pins....and a huge sash that said "Ms. Massachusetts". Okay, from 1953, perhaps. Dyed red hair, too much makeup. She also wouldn't stop yakking through the overture, and at the end of each song, she would very shrilly scream right in my ear "Bravo!!" or "Brava!!' or "Bravi!!", depending on the gender and number of people on the stage. (Yes, I can decline foreign adjectives too, but it's a skill that I pretty much used to pass high school Latin). There was also that smell of stale sweat if you passed to close to her. After a while it got REALLY annoying. During the intermission I told my parents to turn around and get a look at Ms. Haversham over there. So there was a lot of giggling -- thank heavens the mime was funny.

Now I know that sometimes people come in costume to Fledermaus, although usually on New Year's Eve only, and people should enjoy opera. But really, all I could keep thinking of was Ms. Desmond, hanging on to her past glory. Either that, or welcome to New York.